


Step On Your Toes

by QueenoftheHobbits



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, overweight reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:54:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheHobbits/pseuds/QueenoftheHobbits
Summary: You go dancing with Steve.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So i'm putting some copies of my favourite pieces from my blog (imaginesofeveryfandom.tumblr.com) on to my ao3 account. If you want to check out all my work do head over to the blog because it's 2 years worth of fandom and writing!

You’d avoided going dancing with Steve for weeks. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you liked Steve, you liked him a lot and therein lied the real problem. He was so much smaller than you, smaller than most women, let alone yourself. You were larger than most, soft thighs, large stomach, wide hips…and it scared you because Steve was so small, and seemed so fragile and the last thing you wanted was to not just step on his toes, but to step on him. He struggled with day to day life as it was without you accidentally hurting him because god knows you always felt lumbering.

The fact that Steve had been interested in you in the first place had surprised you, and unbeknown to you the fact that you accepted Steve’s advances was a surprise to him. To him you were beautiful, funny, kind…you could do a lot better, have someone like Bucky on your arm, but you’d chosen him…or at least he thought you had, but you seemed to always worm your way out of going dancing with him. He thought you might be embarrassed to be seen dancing with him, after all he wasn’t nearly as tall or as strong or as healthy as the other guys, he’d probably have to stop every now and again to catch his breath and he knew most women weren’t interested in men they could stand on. 

Now, Steve Rogers was always scared of confronting people about things, especially women, and especially women he was interested in. It had never really done him any good, but he knew that he needed to talk to you about this…because he was terrified that you were pitying him or that there was something going on that he just hadn’t cottoned onto. At first he’d talked to Bucky, who’d simply told him to talk to you, to talk to his girl because who else was going to know what was really going on? 

That’s how he found himself stood in the doorway to your apartment, your hair still up in rags and underneath a silk scarf and a million pins and your bed robe wrapped around you tightly. You were beautiful. You on the other hand were rather embarrassed that he’d seen you in your less than perfected state. 

“Steve? What’re you doing here?” Normally he’d call ahead first, or let you know in advance, it was very rare that Steve ever just turned up at your home. He was often far too polite for that.

“Why won’t you go dancing with me? Is…are you embarrassed to be seen with me? Are…are you not interested anymore? It’s okay if you’re not, just please tell me!” It was all blurted out before he’d even gotten inside the front door, he was embarrassed that he’d done that, red filling his cheeks as you ushered him inside and closed the door. 

You wrapped your arms back around you, holding them over your soft stomach and around your waist. You sat across from him on your sofa, watching the way his fingers fidgeted with his the ends of his jacket, “It’s not…it’s not that I don’t want to…Stevie, I’m…i’m scared that…”

“That what? That everyone’s going to see how much better you can do? Because trust me, I know.” You knew Steve struggled with his own insecurities, that it wasn’t just you…but you just didn’t understand it. He was kind and sweet and he had the bluest eyes. It wasn’t him that was the problem. If you were any other girl you probably wouldn’t be worried about him taking you dancing. 

“What? No! That you can do better…that i’ll, that i’ll crush you and hurt you…i’m not exactly small, Steve, i’m pretty big and i’m pretty lumbering…you could get a smaller girl…” You always saw girls around town, with Bucky, with other men, with their friends. Slim waisted, long legged, light enough to be twirled around on the dance floor. Girls who didn’t struggle to get dresses in their size at the local shop. 

“What? This is about your weight? You think…baby…” Steve stood up, shaking limbs and heavy breathing, and walked towards you. You almost stopped him when he struggled to kneel on the ground in front of you and you knew it would hurt for him to kneel like that, but he did it anyway, taking your hands in his cold, shaking ones, “I could not do better, I couldn’t and I wouldn’t want to. I want you, I…I care about you a lot and I want to take you dancing…so what if you step on me? I’ll let you step on me any day.” Care was a great deal at this point, you’d been seeing Steve for weeks, nothing quite official yet, and certainly not the time for declarations. Heck, Steve would tell you he loved you if he didn’t think you’d get scared off by it. 

“Really? You don’t…you don’t think it’s a problem?” You gestured to your wide hips, to the covered lumps and bumps of your body, your round cheeks and soft figure. It was strange to know that someone didn’t think it was a problem…people often did, you were just too big, too this, too that. Too much. But, Steve didn’t think that at all. You were everything and he’d fight anyone who said others, anyone who tried make you feel like you weren’t good enough for anyone. 

“Nothing about you is a problem…and…and i’m sorry if I ever made you feel like it was.” 

“It’s not you, Steve…it’s other people…and me, I don’t…I struggle with believing you and i’m trying I really am…” You get put down all your life and you start to become your own worst critic…and you were trying, and actually Steve was helping. Each day he told you that you looked lovely and each time he brought you flowers you felt a little better, a little more confident…but it was a long process and you knew it wouldn’t happen over night. 

“So let me take you dancing tonight…i’ll show you that it’s okay, we can take it slow. Please?” He really wanted to take you dancing, wanted to twirl you around and show you off, wanted to make you feel good, make you feel beautiful. He wanted to prove to you that the two of you could be a normal couple, that you didn’t need to worry about it.

“O…okay…”


	2. Chapter 2

After your chat you’d had breakfast with Steve before he left with a promise to pick you up later that evening and walk you to the dancing hall where you’d dance around…he made it seem easier that it appeared in your head. But while you were scared, you were also excited. You wanted to dance with Steve, you wanted him to unashamedly show you off as his girl, and you wanted to show him off, to show that you got the sweetest guy in Brooklyn, that all the other girls missed a trick with Steve Rogers. Sweet, sweet, small Steve Rogers.

You spent a good hour before he was supposed to come get you, picking out your clothes from your dress down to your undergarments, carefully pulling each piece on, carefully pulling your stockings on so not to break them, slipping your feet into shoes, and gently unpinning your hair and brushing it into waves. You were meticulous in your efforts to apply your make-up just right, the way you rarely did, but so desperately wanted to tonight. And in the end you actually looked in your mirror and you felt…good. You liked, maybe not quite love yet, but you liked the way your dress was tight against your hips, the way it showed the curves of your side, the way it stretch over your tummy, and tightened against your waist. You liked the way your legs looked in your heels, the way the stockings felt against your skin. You liked the way you looked and the way you felt. You felt like you could do this, like you could take on that dance hall with Steve at your side.

You felt even better when you opened the door to Steve and he simply couldn’t help but stare. You were beautiful and he told you over and over again as you walked arm in arm down the street. You always looked beautiful, but you looked stunning dressed to the nines…and for him, for a dance with him, when he rarely even had trousers that fitted right, and shirts that weren’t too big. 

You felt like all the eyes were on you when you entered the hall, whether that was simply your anxiety playing up or the truth you weren’t sure, but Steve never let you dwell on it. Not for a moment. Simply took you into the centre of the dance floor and pressed one hand to your waist and the other interlocked with your own. Steve wasn’t the best dancer, he knew that, he didn’t have much practice, but then neither did you. 

Rather than worrying about it, you let yourself focus on Steve, on the blue of his eyes, and the way his hand felt on your waist, and how his shoulder felt under your hand as he tried to lead you around without bumping into the other couples. 

“Thank you, for doing this, Steve…you make me feel beautiful…and worthy…and I can’t thank you enough for that.” There wasn’t ever a day that Steve didn’t make you smile in some way, sure your whole happiness didn’t hinge on him, but he was damn well good at making you happy and reminding you of the good things.

“You never have to thank me for…for loving you like deserve.” Love wasn’t something either of you discussed and you weren’t quite ready to either, nonetheless the idea of being loved by Steven Rogers was something that excited you and had you drawing him closer into your bubble.

Because you might not be there yet in loving yourself and loving Steve, but he was doing a great job of making you fall for both. 


End file.
